Porcelain Fists
by cellochick373
Summary: Faberry future fic in which Quinn and Rachel both end up in NY, unaware they're in the same city.  Rachel is a successful Broadway star, but Quinn's life hasn't worked out quite so well... Abused!Quinn, be warned of triggers.  Cross posted to LJ.
1. Part One

A/N: Triggers galore. So, please proceed with caution!

Disclaimer: Not mine.

* * *

The lights dimmed, and Quinn leaned forward just a tiny bit in her seat. The curtain came up and she couldn't stop the small smile from flitting across her face when she heard _that voice_ come soaring into the audience. Closing her eyes, she let the melody wash over her.

She had seen the show enough times that she could visualize exactly what was happening on stage, and in the dark behind her eyelids she could pretend that maybe _that voice_ was directed at her. _That voice_ had become all that sustained her recently. She knew how ironic that was, but she couldn't bring herself to care.

It didn't matter any more that the little brunette _that voice _belonged to had been her worst enemy in high school. It didn't matter that she had gotten to know one of the doormen well enough that he let her in nightly, even though she couldn't afford a ticket. It didn't matter that everything else was falling to pieces around her, because when she heard _that voice_? It all disappeared.

It didn't matter that the voice belonged to Rachel Berry, because somehow, the universe had seen fit to make Rachel Berry's voice the one thing that could take her away from her problems.

Squeezing her eyes shut just a bit more tightly, Quinn forced herself to empty her mind and stop thinking so much. She came here to listen to Rachel and escape her life, not think about it in detail. Hearing the final strains of the finale, she let her eyes slide open, blinking lazily, only to find a pair of dark chocolate eyes staring at her from the stage.

The shock caught her off guard for a moment, and she could do nothing but sit there and blink as Rachel stared at her, curiosity and disbelief painting her features. She had no idea how the brunette had managed to find her in the audience through the glare of the stage lights, but a tentative smile touched her face anyways when Rachel cocked her head and gave her a half smile. Rachel took a step towards her, the half smile growing slightly at the sign of recognition, proof that she wasn't just seeing things in the sea of people.

As the brunette drew another step closer, however, Quinn realized what was happening, and she practically flew out of her seat. Unfortunately, since the show was ending, any chance she might have had at a speedy escape was drastically hampered, but she did her best to push her way through the crowd without looking back. This was not part of the plan. She came to hear Rachel sing, to forget about life for a while, not to rehash the past with someone who probably hated her.

She heard from a distance _that voice_, calling out to her, asking her to wait, but she forced her feet to keep moving. Chancing a glance back, she saw a flurry of brown hair pelting for a side door that she assumed led off stage. Picking up her pace as much as possible, she tried to melt into the people around her. If she could just lose herself in the crowd, she could leave without further incident and forget that this ever happened.

Finally reaching the outer doors to the theater, Quinn pushed her way through and out onto the street, making a break to the left and ducking into a small doorway to hide from sight. If Rachel Berry was anywhere near as persistent as she was in high school, she wasn't going to take any chances.

Sure enough, not thirty seconds later, a tiny brunette came barreling out of the doors, looking around wildly. Pressing her back against the door , Quinn watched as Rachel stood on her toes, scanning the crowd. When she didn't see any sign of the blonde, she dropped back down and her entire posture slumped a bit.

Quinn slumped back against the door with relief when Rachel turned and went back inside, trying to avoid the horde of fans that had congregated around her. Pushing herself off the wall after a few minutes, she turned and began walking away from the building. Her thoughts were more occupied than usual with the little diva who seemed to make all her problems go away, and she sighed and shook her head.

It didn't matter that she was suddenly left feeling like she had missed a critical opportunity, something that could have changed her life. She needed to gather herself before going back to _him_.

He wouldn't care that something terribly important could have happened, so she shouldn't either.

Steeling her posture, Quinn wrapped her scarf just a bit tighter against the world as she headed for home.

* * *

_The first time she met him, he had instantly charmed her._

_He had been funny and witty with just enough sarcasm thrown in, and he had the looks to boot. He was tall, with his dark brown hair buzzed close to the scalp. Just a bit scruffy, he was obviously in fantastic shape and oozed masculinity. Everything about him had seemed perfect._

_A mutual friend had introduced them, and he had made her feel special. It had been so long since someone had looked at her like that- like they wanted her for more than just her body, more than just a one night stand._

_His name was Jason, and that night had been one of the happiest of her life. He had asked her to dance, and it had been actual dancing, not just grinding and random flailing. He had been the perfect gentleman, and all she could think was that she had finally found someone to be happy with._

_All through college, she had tried and tried to find someone who could be her forever, but with no success. Over the course of those four years, she had also managed to come to terms with the fact that she was attracted to women as well as men, and she had been hopeful that maybe that was what had been missing all along. Five flings and two failed relationships later, however, she was forced to concede that gender might not have been the problem after all._

_She had kept trying, driven by the hope that someone out there had to be looking for her just like she was looking for them. She had stopped believing in the kind of fairy-tale romance and love she had dreamt of as a child when she had gotten pregnant at sixteen and ended up without a home, but that didn't mean she had given up on love all together. Still, after so much heartbreak and disappointment, it was becoming easy to slip into old habits of cynicism and snark._

_She had almost given up on ever finding someone when she met Jason, but when he led her off the dance floor and bought her a drink and then sat and talked with her for an hour, she had known. This was what it was supposed to be like. He did everything she had always been told a good guy would do, and it felt amazing._

_At the end of the night he had taken her home, picked up the cab fare, and kissed her on the cheek. He hadn't propositioned her for anything more, but had given her his number and said to call him if she wanted to go out again sometime. She had managed to wait a full 24 hours before breaking down and texting him, and they had set up plans to go out the next night._

_He had been even more perfect, if that was possible, and after that it had only taken 6 months for him to propose and a small wedding to take place. All of her friends had been concerned, but he had quickly put all her fears to rest. He had told her it was perfectly normal for two people with their type of connection to move more quickly than other people might deem reasonable, and because he seemed so confident in what he was saying, she had believed him with no questions asked._

_She also hadn't questioned as she gradually became more and more focused on him, until it reached the point where she had started planning her days around him. After all, she reasoned, she had never been married before, so maybe this was what domestic bliss was supposed to be like._

_It wasn't like she had a whole lot of examples of what a healthy marriage was supposed to look like, and while this was entirely different than any other relationships she had been in, she didn't know if that was necessarily a bad thing. Obviously none of those relationships had led to anything even close to marriage, so maybe this was how things should have been all along._

_He was just so amazing, and if he asked a little more of her than she was used to then it was okay, because he was more than she was used to._

_It didn't matter that she had slowly begun to drift away from her friends because she was too busy spending all her time with him. She still saw them, and whenever they commented on her absence she just chalked it up to them being jealous of what she had. They couldn't find a guy as amazing as Jason, so trying to bring her down was the next best thing._

_Looking back, of course, all of those things that she thought didn't matter were actually vital, but at the time?_

_She thought everything was perfect._

* * *

Rachel stood on stage, only half paying attention to her performance. She was too busy scanning the audience to really pay attention to the notes she was hitting, too busy searching for blonde hair and sad hazel eyes.

The last two weeks she had been keeping an eye out at all of her performances, desperate to find Quinn again, but so far she hadn't had any luck. She wasn't honestly sure why she was so set on finding Quinn and seeing her again, because by all accounts she should probably be trying to stay as far away as possible.

Their relationship in high school hadn't exactly been positive, but something was telling her that things had changed. She didn't know why she would think that, but she was determined to find out. Her fabled (to her mind) sixth sense told her that there was a reason Quinn was in the audience that night that was worth looking into, something that was worth setting aside old grudges for and she wasn't one to discount what her intuition was telling her.

Hitting the final note of the show, she sighed internally as she tried not to let her disappointment show on her face. Just as she was about to turn, though, a flash of blonde hair caught her eye in the aisle. She whipped around in time to see Quinn turning to make her way outside. She wished momentarily that she wasn't on Broadway, so that she could simply leap off the stage and go running after the blonde. Knowing that could only end badly, however, she opted for a more stealthy approach and calmly walked off stage before sprinting out the side door to try to beat Quinn around to the front of the theater.

She didn't know what, exactly, she was trying to accomplish, but at the very least she was curious about why Quinn kept coming to her shows. Skidding to a stop in front of the theater, she scanned the people milling about, and out of the corner of her eye she saw Quinn walking in the opposite direction down the street.

Running after her, she finally caught up as the blonde was about to turn the corner and ran in front of her. The look on Quinn's face was one of pure shock when she found herself suddenly face to face with Rachel Berry.

Panting, Rachel managed to say, "Hello, Quinn. It's been a while."

As the shock wore off, Quinn found herself faced with warring emotions. On the one hand, a part of her was ecstatic that Rachel had come after her, but the larger part of her was screaming that she had to get away. She had to protect herself, and she had to protect Rachel. If that meant she got hurt in the process, well...at least Rachel would be safe.

Trying to maintain the internal mantra that keeping Rachel safe was what mattered, Quinn shifted to disinterested bitch mode and replied, "Yeah, Berry. What do you want?"

A bit put off at Quinn's brusque manner, Rachel arched a brow and said, "I just wanted to say hello." She paused and figured she'd just be Rachel Berry and get right to the point. "You did, after all, come see my show at least twice. You must have known there'd be a chance that you'd run into me. Obviously, you weren't completely averse to talking to me."

Scoffing and mumbling, "Don't flatter yourself." Quinn turned to leave.

Suddenly angry at being brushed off so easily, Rachel reached out a hand and grabbed Quinn's arm to prevent her from leaving. She expected Quinn to try to shake her off, maybe turn and yell, but she was entirely unprepared for the blonde to cry out and jerk away from her as though burned. Confused, Rachel let her hand drop but asked, "Quinn? Are you okay? I didn't mean to hurt you, I-"

She was cut off by Quinn turning on her and snarling, "Stay away from me, Berry."

As the blonde stalked off, Rachel just watched her go, stunned at the way things had happened so quickly. She didn't miss the way Quinn's arms went around herself as she walked, as though she was trying to shield herself from some unseen harm, or the way she seemed to shrink in on herself.

Watching the blonde's retreating form, Rachel leaned on the brick building to her side and sighed heavily. She just didn't know what to make of this. The blonde kept coming to her shows, but she didn't seem to want to want any actual contact with her. She wasn't sure why it mattered so much to her, really, given their history.

But Rachel had never been one to let things drop, and she was certain now that there was more to this than Quinn was letting on. Something had changed dramatically- the blonde was still beautiful, but there was a quiet sadness to her that seemed...off. Maybe it was something in her eyes.

The diva couldn't quite put her finger on it, but their brief encounter had made her even more curious than ever about what Quinn had been up to since high school. It had obviously been a difficult road, but not knowing any sort of specific details was killing her. She knew that Quinn's harsh words should have been more than enough of an indicator for her that the blonde wanted Rachel to leave her alone, but she couldn't shake the feeling that there was more to it than Quinn simply not wanting to talk to her.

There was some other reason for Quinn's attitude, and she was determined to find out what it was.

* * *

_The first time Quinn realized that maybe Jason wasn't as perfect as she thought came around six months into their life as a married couple. They had been having some arguments recently over her getting a job, and one night something changed._

_She had been telling him that she was smart and that she could easily find work, and he cut her off. "Quinn, honestly? You really think you're cut out for work? I mean, come on, sweetheart, we both know you're not the sharpest tool in the shed, and you don't have a whole lot going for you other than your looks...and, I mean, if we're being blunt here, you're looking a bit chunky these days. Just...I don't want you to be disappointed, honey."_

_His tone was concerned, if a bit patronizing, but she told herself that he was just looking out for her best interests. A week later, however, she dropped a plate after dinner. It broke, and he exploded._

_He was screaming at her, out of nowhere, and she was terrified as words flew at her about how she was nothing but a stupid cunt, good for nothing bitch, a slut who couldn't do anything right. It was so unexpected and completely out of character for the Jason that she knew that she just stood there and let him scream. It felt so unreal, and when he finally stopped and stomped out of the room, it felt like it couldn't possibly have happened._

_She cleaned up the broken plate, and later that night he apologized and told her it had been a rough couple of days at work, and that he would never do it again. She told him it was fine, and she understood, and it had been her fault for dropping the plate in the first place._

_Maybe a small part of her knew that it wasn't really fine, but she didn't want to think about what it would mean if things weren't fine, so even when the screaming and the blaming became more of a regular occurrence she tried not to think too much about it. After all, she was a strong, independent woman. She could take care of herself, and there was no way she was ever going to be one of those women, who stayed with someone who treated them horribly._

_Quinn had promised herself, after the fiasco that had been her childhood and teenage years, that she would never let someone control her life or treat her badly again. Making good on that promise had taken her on a whirlwind ride, and she had ended up learning more about herself than she would have thought possible, but it had given her a sense of who she was. There was no way she was going to lie down and let someone take that away from her, but with Jason? She didn't want to think about it; it was dangerous territory that she wasn't sure she could handle._

_If she thought about it, then she might see that things weren't so perfect anymore, and that wasn't something she wanted to have to deal with. Instead of thinking, she learned to just try to tune out what he was saying- all of the insults about how ugly she was, how stupid and worthless and what a waste of space she was. And maybe there was just a little too much of that insecure 16-year-old girl who got pregnant left in her, but she started to believe him._

_It seemed easy enough to believe that she wasn't really that pretty, and that she just thought she was smart. She knew there were a lot of things wrong with her, and while it hurt to have Jason constantly point them out, maybe it was better that he was honest with her about her flaws._

_Maybe he was just trying to help her be more aware of things she could work on. Maybe he just had her best interests at heart and really loved her enough to help her improve and be good enough._

_Maybe._

* * *

The third time Rachel saw Quinn after a show, she decided to take a bit of a different tact. She still chased after the blonde after the show out in front of the theater, and when she caught up to her, she still stepped in front of her, but she tried to be softer when she held up a hand before Quinn could speak.

Taking a deep breath, she said, "I know you obviously don't like me, and that's okay, but I would really love it if you would have coffee with me tonight. I realize it might be an inconvenience to you, but it would mean a lot to me. I miss seeing people from Lima, and just having someone to talk to who views me as a person, flaws and all. So, would you? Please?"

Quinn stared at her, mouth opening and then closing, before she finally murmured, "It's not that I don't like you, Rachel..." trailing off, not really wanting to continue because she might say too much.

When the brunette arched an eyebrow at her in disbelief, she sighed and after a moment of hesitation, she finally nodded her head. "Okay. Coffee just this once, I guess. Just don't plan on it being a habit or anything, got it?"

Rachel nodded enthusiastically, reaching out and grabbing the blonde's hand. Quinn flinched away from her hand at first, and Rachel sighed. "I'm not going to hit you, Quinn."

A strange look passed across Quinn's face for a split second before it was gone and she shook her head. "I know, Rachel. It's not like you'd do much damage even if you did. Where's the coffee place? Let's get this over with." Rachel decided to brush it off. She knew that Quinn was more than likely simply trying to keep her at arm's length and prevent her from getting too close.

Rachel led the way to the tiny coffee shop, maintaining a steady flow of aimless chatter the entire way there. Once they were seated in a tiny back booth, however, she found herself suddenly at a loss for words. She was sitting across from_ Quinn Fabray_. How on earth had this happened?

She hadn't actually expected Quinn to give in quite so easily, so she hadn't taken the time to prepare some plan for conversation in her head before she ended up actually talking to the blonde. It wasn't that she wasn't thrilled that Quinn had given her this chance, it was just...a bit faster than she had really expected.

Quinn seemed just as baffled by the situation, and she looked distinctly uncomfortable. Internally, she was berating herself for letting Rachel talk her into this. She knew what her reasons were for trying to stay away from the brunette, and she knew they were valid. It was just...she hadn't been able to bear the rejection on the diva's face when she tried to turn her down again.

Mentally kicking herself for caring in the first place, Quinn tried desperately to think of something to talk about. Rachel was clearly struggling, and the blonde decided since she was here, she'd bite the bullet and at least try to make this a little less awkward.

Their coffee arrived, and after taking a small sip, Quinn cleared her throat. "Rachel..." she trailed off, clearly searching for words, before shaking her head and trying again. "I don't...I'm sorry. I guess that's what I'm trying to say. I'm sorry. Back in high school, I was...I was young, and stupid, and naïve, and maybe I'm still all of those things minus the young part, but I know better now, and I'm so, so sorry for everything I did."

Surprised at Quinn's seemingly unprovoked apology, Rachel sat in silence for a moment just trying to process it before reaching out and slowly grasping at Quinn's hand across the table. "It's okay. Maybe it wasn't, for a while, but I forgave you a long, long time ago. And just for the record, I don't think you've been anything even remotely close to stupid, ever, and you haven't been anywhere in the neighborhood of naïve since Beth. You're incredibly intelligent, Quinn, you always have been. You just didn't always use that intelligence in the most productive of ways."

While she was talking, the same strange look passed across Quinn's face accompanied by a brief pang of something in her stomach. She looked down at the table. "Thank you, Rachel," she whispered, "I don't think I really deserve your forgiveness, after everything I've done, but thank you."

Taking a drink of coffee, Rachel squeezed her hand and said, "Please, Quinn. It was high school. No permanent damage was done, and you're clearly not the same person any more. It would be pointless to hold a grudge against you now." Releasing Quinn's hand, Rachel leaned back in her seat. She waited for Quinn to say something, but the blonde seemed lost in thought. After a few minutes of slightly awkward silence, the blonde looked at Rachel and smiled hesitantly.

"Sorry," she murmured, clearing her throat, "So, how's life been treating you? Aside from Broadway obviously working out marvelously." The last part was said with a slight smirk, and Rachel instantly felt more at ease.

Talking about how life had turned out for her was an easy topic, and the last bit of tension dissipated entirely as she talked. They covered a variety of somewhat mundane topics, but despite Rachel's attempts, Quinn somehow managed to keep the conversation focused on the diva. It was quite the change from the self-centered girl she had known in high school, and Rachel found herself wondering why she had changed so drastically.

She got the same sense she had the last time she saw the blonde- something was different. Frustrated at not knowing what, exactly, was different, Rachel tried to just go with the conversation and hope for the best. She lost track of how long they had been talking, but eventually had to stifle a yawn in between sentences. Looking at her watch, she laughed quietly. "You know, you'd think for being on Broadway I'd be used to this, but it seems like without fail I hit 4:00 in the morning and I just start to crash."

At the mention of the time, Quinn suddenly grew pale and her eyes widened. "Is it 4:00 already?" She asked, a note of panic in her voice. The blonde was already out of her seat as Rachel started to nod, hurriedly throwing her coat on. Trying to figure out why it was suddenly so important for the blonde to leave, Rachel threw some bills on the table and followed the other woman out the door. When she heard Rachel come out after her, Quinn paused and turned. Trying to force a smile, she said, "I'm sorry I have to go, Rachel, it was really nice talking to you. I just- I have to go."

Watching as Quinn turned and hurried in the opposite direction, Rachel tried to figure out what had just happened. She didn't think it was anything she had said that had upset the blonde, but when she had mentioned the time Quinn had gone from relaxed and calm to panicked and jittery in the space of a few seconds. Rachel tried to figure out why the time might be so important, but gave up after a few seconds.

She just didn't know enough about the blonde and her life to be able to guess at why she did certain things and behaved certain ways. Sighing and rubbing her temples, Rachel gave up on trying to figure Quinn out for now and turned for home. She had done her best to be friendly, and now all she could do was hope that Quinn would reach back out to her. She would love the opportunity to get to really know the blonde, to see who she really was behind what Rachel had come to think of as her mask.

Quinn still seemed like she was trying to project a certain image of herself, but the brunette was convinced that there was a whole different person underneath. If she could just figure out a way to get past the porcelain exterior, she had a feeling she would get to see an entirely different person.


	2. Part Two

A/N: Warning for triggers still stands!

* * *

_The first time that Jason told her she wasn't allowed to do something, Quinn told herself it was just his protective nature. She had been convinced that things could only go back uphill when the name calling started, and finding out she was wrong came as quite the shock._

_She had been going to the gym to try to get into better shape since Jason continually nagged about her weight and appearance being sub-par, and it had been going well. She had met some fun people there, and she thought she was really starting to see some results. She had thought Jason would appreciate her efforts, but one day she came home to find him waiting._

_Without preamble, he said shortly, "I don't want you going to the gym anymore."_

_Confused, Quinn opened her mouth to ask why, and he cut her off. "I don't like you going where all those other guys can look at you all they want. If you want to exercise, I'll get you a treadmill or something, but I don't want you going back to the gym."_

_She had thought it was a bit much, but tried to view it as a cute attempt at keeping her safe. If she tried hard, she could pretend that he was just looking out for her dignity. It wasn't until he started nagging about other activities that she got frustrated. She had gone out with a group of friends that she hardly ever got to see any more, and there were a couple guys in the group. She had gotten back around 2:00 in the morning to find Jason waiting for her. In much the same way he had told her about the gym, he told her he didn't want her to go out with that group of friends any more. He didn't trust them, he said, to keep her safe._

_She tried to argue that these were her friends and she should be allowed to see them. She had even tried to tell him that he could come with her when she saw them, but he ignored her and just essentially accused her of cheating._

_The fact that he didn't trust her stung, but in hindsight what hurt even more was that she caved instantly in order to make him happy and assuage his fears, however irrational. All of her pride in being an independent woman who could stand up for her rights was apparently sorely misplaced, as she found herself compromising more and more. Jason would demand something, even if it was sometimes in a very polite way, and she would cave for fear of losing him or hurting him._

_It didn't matter that she was hurting herself by doing what he wanted, because he loved her and he was amazing, and she was never going to find another guy like him in the world. He was possessive of her because he loved her and appreciated her, and wanted to make sure she was safe and wasn't taken advantage of by anyone else. She knew she was losing her friends, but Jason made up for it._

_She knew that they were just going through a short rough patch, and that if she just stuck with him then it would be over and they would be perfect again._

* * *

Rachel had gone through her show forcing herself not to search the audience for a certain blonde. She had told herself that she had done her best to kindle a friendship, and if anything else was going to happen it had to be initiated by Quinn. Sighing with relief when the curtain finally dropped and she could turn her back on the audience, she let her shoulders drop and headed for her dressing room. She had just finished changing out of her costume when there was a knock on the door. Opening it, she was met with one of the backstage security guards.

"Someone is outside wanting to see you," he said gruffly, turning to leave without giving any other details. Trying to decide if it was worth it to yell after him and try to find out who it was, Rachel decided it was too much trouble and went back into the dressing room. Sitting down, she ran a brush through her hair before grabbing her coat and heading out the door.

Not thinking much about who might be waiting for her, she was entirely unprepared to walk out and see Quinn standing there. She stopped abruptly, mouth hanging open slightly, just looking at the blonde and trying to convince herself she wasn't imagining her. When Quinn smiled and walked closer, she finally managed to snap her jaw shut, but she still couldn't quite form words.

"I'm sorry about the other night," Quinn said, glancing away from Rachel for a second before continuing, "I was hoping to make it up to you? Maybe go get a bite tonight?" After a brief pause without a response from Rachel, Quinn's face fell and she sighed before turning to leave.

As she moved, Rachel finally burst out with, "Wait!"

Turning around, Quinn looked at her, obviously waiting for her to say something else. Stumbling a bit over her words in her haste to get them out, Rachel said, "I would love to go with you, but I already told one of my cast mates that I would go to this party she's throwing tonight..." Seeing the slight frown of disappointment on Quinn's face, Rachel hurried to add, "But I would love it if we could do lunch instead- tomorrow, maybe?"

A tentative smile broke out on the blonde's face and she nodded. "Tomorrow would be wonderful. How does 2:30 at Grey Dog sound?"

Unable to help but smile back, Rachel nodded. "Perfect. I'll see you then!" With a wave and another smile that stole Rachel's breath away, Quinn was gone, leaving the brunette standing there to wonder what on earth had just happened-again.

* * *

_The first time that Jason left her ended up being the one and only time._

_Looking back, Jason leaving could have been the turning point in her life. It could have been the moment when things started to get back on track and she was able to actually start living again. It could have been a lot of wonderful things- and it probably would have been, except that she went after him and so it wasn't._

_He had said that he just couldn't handle being around someone so grossly unattractive, someone so stupid and inadequate, and then he had walked out the door. Quinn had stood there for a few long moments before flying out the door after him, begging him to come back. Looking back, she regretted that moment more than almost anything._

_She should have stayed inside, locked the doors, and never let him back in, no matter what he said. She should have been ecstatic to be free from the screaming, and the insults, and the controlling behavior. But she wasn't._

_All she could think about was that she was going to be alone, and how that would be worse than just about anything. She didn't want to go back to being lonely all the time, even if it meant that she was hurting all the time instead._

_And maybe it was because of everything Jason said about her, about how she was stupid and ugly and couldn't do anything right, but in that moment she was petrified that if she let him walk out of her life she would never find anyone else. So she begged._

_She ran outside, and grabbed his arm, and begged him to stay. The begging hurt, because Quinn Fabray did not beg, for anything, but this was too important. He was too important. She promised that she would be better, that she would never so much as glance at anyone else, that she would try to be who he wanted her to be._

_Eventually, he let her lead him back inside, where he made a big show of saying that he was giving her one more chance to make things better or he was gone for good. When he walked into the bedroom, shutting the door behind him, Quinn sat on the couch and nearly sobbed with relief._

_In the back of her mind, she knew that she had just made a horrible, horrible mistake. But the relief at not being abandoned and alone was overpowering, and so she crossed her fingers and hoped that if she got better, so would he._

* * *

Rachel sat in the cafe, waiting for Quinn to arrive. It wasn't quite 2:33, but she couldn't stop a little pang of worry from settling in her stomach. It had been ages since she was stood up; she hadn't been since before she hit it big on Broadway, and the mere thought of it was incredibly disheartening. Even more disheartening was the fact that, if the blonde didn't come, she had no way of getting in contact with the other woman besides attempting to stalk her at shows.

Making a mental note to get her number, she sat back and watched the second hand on the clock tick slowly until it was 2:34. Almost exactly after the hand clicked into place, Quinn was sliding gracefully into the seat across from her, an apologetic smile on her face. "Sorry I'm a bit late," she half laughed, half gasped, "Traffic was mad."

Grinning and just happy that the blonde had shown, Rachel waved the waitress over before turning back to Quinn. Noticing her attire, she arched a brow. "Aren't you just dying of heat exhaustion in that," she asked curiously. It was unseasonably warm, but the blonde had on long sleeves and pants, and a scarf was looped around her neck.

There was a minuscule pause before Quinn laughed and replied, "No, I'm always cold." When Rachel gave her a disbelieving look, she rolled her eyes. "Come on. It's freezing out there! Plus they have the air conditioning on in here- don't even try to pretend that you aren't secretly shivering!" Unable to stop her laugh, Rachel just shook her head as the waiter approached to take their orders.

"So," Quinn flashed her a small smile, "How've you been since I saw you last?" To her surprise, Rachel found that talking to the other woman was just...easy. The other night, it had been all about her, but now? Quinn was, if not forthcoming, at least more willing to talk about how she had gotten to New York in the first place. Whenever Rachel prompted a question about the recent past, however, the blonde was quick to dodge it and redirect the topic of conversation. It was mildly frustrating, particularly as it grew more noticeable and more frequent. Trying to come up with a topic that might allow for a fusion of old and new, something that might open Quinn up for more questions, Rachel brought up relationships.

Quinn could feel herself starting to tense, and sighed internally. It had been a while since she had needed to lie to anyone, and she was out of practice at pretending things were fine. Reminding herself that Rachel had no idea what was going on, she steeled herself and said, "Well, I've managed to avoid any further pregnancies, but that might be because I dated girls for most of college." There.

Rachel's jaw nearly hit the floor in shock, and Quinn had to force herself not to sigh in relief. This was something she could talk about- it might not be amazing conversation fodder, but it would at least keep the brunette's focus off of her current romantic status long enough for her to come up with a distraction.

Fighting back a grin at the obvious difficulty Rachel was having processing the latest tidbit of information, Quinn saved her the trouble of trying to come up with a suitable question. Leaning across the table, she gently placed a forefinger under Rachel's chin and tipped it shut.

Rachel took a deep breath before letting it go slowly. "Sorry," she said after another moment, "It's just a lot to take in. I seem to recall you having a slightly...hostile view of same sex relations back in high school. Well, maybe that's not the right word, but...you get the idea?"

Nodding, Quinn said, "Yeah, I get it. I never had a problem with it, but my parents and the church did, and I didn't have such a great time when they kicked me out the first time...I wasn't exactly in a hurry to go through it again once they finally let me come back. When I made it out here for school with a full ride scholarship, though? Definitely loved the freedom that came along with it."

Quinn could practically see the wheels turning in Rachel's mind as she processed the information, filing it away as she apparently accepted it. Smiling when the brunette nodded and said, "All right, then," Quinn was quick to ask, "So, how's romance working out for you?"

The first time he hit her, she didn't cry. She didn't move, didn't make a sound. Since Jason had come back, she had tried everything she could think of, everything she could imagine that might make her more appealing. Since she didn't have any friends and wasn't out of the house much, she had plenty of time on her hands to think of ways to make herself better, to make him happy, but none of them worked.

When she knocked over his glass of wine one night, however, she finally realized that maybe things were never going to get better, never going to go back to the way they used to be. It was a simple mistake, she just barely tipped the glass when she went to pick up his plate, but it was enough to spill red wine all over the table cloth.

Before she was even aware of what was happening, before she could apologize or start to clean it up, his hand was connecting with her face. She stood there, shocked, unable to believe he had hit her, but then he was hitting her again, and again, and it hurt, so she let herself fall to the floor and curl into a ball. He was screaming at her to get up, but she couldn't make herself move, so he grabbed her roughly and lifted her bodily before pinning her against the wall.

His fingers dug into the pale skin of her upper arms as he hissed, "Clumsy bitch," before pushing her back into the wall a little harder and then letting her fall.

Quinn felt her knees hit the ground. But everything just hurt _so much_, and she barely registered the relatively minor pain. She was dimly aware as the last bit of sun faded from the windows, casting the room into darkness and shadows, but she couldn't make herself move. Her body had stopped hurting, and now everything was just...numb. Like she was in a cloud and everything around her was muffled and muted and unreal.

This couldn't have happened to her. She wasn't _that woman_, the one that ended up on the evening news or in a shelter somewhere. Jason wasn't_ that guy_, either- the one that people always warned about, that ended up in jail for doing awful things to his wife, or his girlfriend, or whoever he had managed to get his hands on.

Somehow, somewhere along the way, things had just gotten confused. This was all just a big misunderstanding, or a bad dream, and Quinn was convinced that if she just stayed right where she was and didn't move, eventually she would have to wake up. This couldn't be real.

She stayed like that, her body rigid and tense, until the first rays of light touched the glass of the window and she couldn't ignore it any longer.

It was real, and just because she stayed in her spot, it didn't mean anything was going to get any better. It had taken multiple tries before she was able to ease herself into a standing position, but when she was finally upright, all she could do was lean on the wall. She was still standing, but as the sunlight began to stream more fully into the room, she realized she had no idea where to go from here.


	3. Part Three

The lunch date had gone amazingly, in Quinn's opinion. Rachel had asked for her number at the end of it, and they had set up a dinner date the following night since the brunette had a night off from the show. She thought she would still be able to get away from Jason without rousing his suspicion, and for once she was thankful for his arrogance.

She still wasn't entirely sure why she had told Rachel about dating other women- she knew she could have made something up about going guy-crazy and the diva would probably have believed every word. She was loathe to admit that maybe, just maybe, she wanted it out there in case the brunette was ever interested in anything. Being around the smaller woman made Quinn feel...alive, in a way that she hadn't been since meeting Jason.

As her thoughts moved to her boyfriend, Quinn couldn't help but feel a pang in her heart. As long as he was in the picture, he would never let her go willingly and she didn't think she was strong enough to stand up to him and do something about it. And as much as she wanted to ignore it, she knew that the fact remained that he wouldn't just hurt her if he found out about anything going on between her and Rachel, whether it be a friendship or something more.

He had no qualms about hurting anyone who got in his way, and Quinn knew she would never be able to forgive herself if something happened to Rachel because she was too selfish to put a stop to things. But still, the allure of having someone who cared about her, even as a friend...it was tempting to try to forget about Jason for awhile and just be happy. As she walked into the apartment she shared with Jason and was greeted with the sight of him sitting and waiting for her, however, she knew that there was no way she could ever involve Rachel in this.

His face spoke volumes about what was about to happen, and before she could turn around and run out the door, he had grabbed her and was throwing her to the floor. The shock of impact momentarily stunned the blonde, and before she could regain her senses he was on top of her, hand around her throat to keep her still. She looked up at him, eyes wide with fear as he stared down at her, his voice deadly quiet as he asked, "Is there someone else, Quinn?"

Trying to shake her head in the negative, she stopped immediately as the hand at her neck pressed down. Trying to resist the instinct to struggle, she lay as still as possible while trying to say something, anything, to make him stop. When she couldn't get anything to come out of her mouth, he lost his composure and screamed, "You filthy, lying bitch! I take you in, I take care of you, I provide for your every need, and this is how you repay me?"

Her vision was quickly becoming obscured by black spots as her brain started to shut down from the lack of oxygen, but Quinn managed to force out a single word past the vise of his hand on her throat: "No."

In a split second he was off of her, and she gasped for air, trying desperately to keep from losing consciousness. She heard the front door slam, signaling his departure, and felt the tears well in the corners of her eyes. Shutting them tightly, Quinn bit back the sob struggling to escape and slowly sat up.

She should have known better than to expect Jason not to notice her recent absence from the apartment. He worked nights for the most part so he was always working when she went out to the shows, and while the consequences were dire if he came home and she wasn't there, it was a risk that she was willing to take if it meant seeing Rachel.

She had known he might be home by the time she returned, but she had just hoped.

"Stupid, stupid, stupid," she whispered under her breath as she forced herself to stand up. She was lucky he hadn't done anything worse, something that maybe make-up couldn't hide. Walking slowly to the small bathroom, she pulled out her make-up bag from under the sink and laid out her supplies. She didn't care that she was basically daring Jason to do something else by keeping her dinner date with Rachel the following night; she held out a little bit of hope that he would feel a shred of remorse and leave her alone about it.

It had been too long since someone had made her feel anything other than afraid, and she refused to give that up and let Jason take away the one last shred of hope and love she was holding onto. If she was careful, hopefully he would be none the wiser, and with a bit of time and concealer, hopefully Rachel wouldn't be either.

* * *

The first time she applied make-up to cover the bruises he left, it took her hours. She didn't know what she was doing- how to layer it, how to alternate between liquid foundation and powdered concealer in order to cover the colors of the marks. She had no idea to use shades that were far lighter than her own skin tone to prevent a noticeable spot from appearing on her skin. She certainly didn't have any ideas about blending and how to present a flawless finished product that didn't just look like she had caked make-up on from her head down.

The first few tries, it looked awful. It was blotchy, and the liquid foundation ended up looking smeared and blotchy, and the powder over it only served to highlight the streakiness of the cover up job as a whole. By the third hour, she had been able to at least get different coverage on her arms and neck, but the face was still a problem.

She remembered reading something about yellow cancelling out the blue and purple tones of black eyes, but when she tried adding yellow into the mix before putting on the foundation and powder, it just made the bruise look a nasty shade of green.

Gradually, however, she began to get the hang of it. By the end of the fifth hour, she had at least managed to make herself look presentable enough to go out in public without having to deal with whispers and finger pointing. As she looked at herself in the mirror, she watched as a tear slowly rolled down her cheek, leaving a thin track in the make up.

Dashing it away quickly, Quinn turned around and busied herself with cleaning up the mess she had made. She had made it this far, and she would be damned if she broke down now, after everything else. Carefully sliding her bag of make up into it's place under the sink, she straightened and faced herself in the mirror again.

She carefully tucked a stray piece of hair behind her ear, and tried to smile at herself in the mirror. It felt forced and unnatural, but she was reassured that it didn't look that way, and that nobody would be able to note at first glance that she was anything but happy. Sighing, she turned off the light and went back into the main body of the apartment to try to think about what had happened and what she was going to do.

It became a bit of a ritual, after the first couple times. It never took as long as that first time had, but it still felt the same. Eventually, though, she became almost mechanical in her actions. It was a rhythm of sorts- she would wake up to bruises, go into the bathroom after Jason was gone, and put herself back together, blending her rough edges smooth again. And every time, she would slide the bag of make up back into its place, straighten, and put on a smile to prove to herself that she was still able to do this.

No matter how many times she ended up on the floor, she would always get back up with a smile on her face. It didn't matter that it wasn't real. What mattered was that people believed it, and as long as they believed she was happy, Quinn was convinced that she could kid herself into thinking the same thing.

* * *

Quinn knew, somewhere in the back of her mind, that it was probably stupid of her to be going out to meet Rachel after how Jason had reacted. It had taken longer than normal for her to cover the bruises and marks he had left behind, and she had taken extra care to wear long sleeves with a scarf to provide extra coverage. The last thing she needed was for Rachel to see something and start to poke and prod about her life and whether she was okay or not.

Thus far, Quinn knew she had been lucky that the diva had taken the diversions she had offered and had allowed the conversation to be directed by the blonde. If the petite brunette suspected she was being hurt, however, Quinn had a nagging suspicion that she wouldn't be so quick to let it drop. Rachel obviously hadn't changed entirely from the argyle-wearing dynamite that Quinn had known in high school, and she saw no reason to find out whether the brunette still possessed her ability to sink her teeth into something and refuse to let go until she got what she wanted.

If she was careful, she was sure that she could keep Rachel at a comfortable distance but still be friends with her. The distance would be critical, though, if she had any hope of justifying the continued contact to herself.

She knew she had gotten off easy with Jason, and if he ever found out that she actually was seeing someone else, albeit not in a romantic context, she didn't want to contemplate what that might mean for either her or Rachel. Quinn knew that she would die before letting Jason hurt Rachel, but there was a quiet voice in the back of her mind that told her just because she was willing to die didn't mean she would be able to keep the brunette safe. If she was dead, then there wouldn't be anyone stopping Jason from going after Rachel, and then...well, she refused to think about what might happen then.

She was going to go into this with her eyes open, but that didn't mean she wanted to torture herself with thoughts of everything that might go wrong, of all the ways that Rachel might be hurt. Walking just a bit faster, she wondered briefly if this was fair to Rachel. The brunette didn't deserve to be lied to, and she certainly didn't deserve to be put in danger without her knowledge.

Pressing the buzzer to Rachel's apartment to let the other woman know she was there, Quinn exhaled slowly. She would figure something out, some way to keep the diva safe, but for now she was going to put those thoughts aside and focus on making sure Rachel had a good time.

Not a moment after the blonde had composed herself, the door swung open and Rachel bounded out. The brunette paused to take in Quinn's appearance, grinning at the other woman as she offered her arm. Quinn looked gorgeous, if a bit overdressed for the weather again, and Rachel felt butterflies swarm her stomach. She was certainly comfortable enough in her sexuality to acknowledge her obvious attraction to the blonde, but she didn't want to act on what she was feeling until she knew a little bit more about the other woman's life.

Rachel knew that Quinn had mostly been putting up a front when she had brushed her off the first couple times they met, but in the time since then she hadn't managed to get much in the way of insight as to why the blonde had been so reluctant to talk with her. She still had the feeling that there was something, some reason that Quinn continued to evade certain questions, but she hadn't been able to pin down any specifics.

It was painfully obvious that Quinn was hiding something, but Rachel had no idea what it was, or why the blonde was so staunchly protecting the details. She just didn't know what to make of the other woman sometimes. She freely offered details about how she was attracted to women as well as men (which Rachel was still trying to process), but then the simplest of questions would elicit an instant redirection of the conversation.

Where do you live? Suddenly they were talking about Rachel's last fling.

What do you do for work? The blonde developed a sudden curiosity about which of Rachel's parts was her favorite.

Are you seeing anyone? Quinn suddenly just had to go ask that woman over there where she got her scarf.

Rachel was loathe to push for fear of scaring the blonde off entirely, but if there was anything she could do to help, then she wanted to know.

A light tug on her arm brought her back to the present as she looked over and saw Quinn staring at her questioningly. "Where'd you go?" she asked, "Looked like you were doing some pretty serious thinking."

Smiling and shaking her head, Rachel murmured, "No, just got a little lost in my thoughts." Brightening her tone considerably, she asked, "So, ready to go eat?"

Dinner had gone well, and as they smiled across the table at each other over dessert, Rachel hesitated before speaking. Quinn gave her an encouraging smile and before she could chicken out, Rachel blurted, "Do you just want to go back to my place?" Quinn arched a brow, confused about what the brunette was asking, and waited for her to clarify.

Almost immediately, a blush spread across Rachel's face as she saw the blonde's confusion, and she stumbled over her words in her haste to clarify. "Oh, god- not like- I didn't mean- I was just-"

Stopping to collect her breath, she started to try to explain again, but stopped when she saw the slight smirk on Quinn's face. The blonde let out a chuckle and said, "I know, Rach, and I would love to go back with you."

Letting out a relieved sigh, Rachel grinned and said, "Movie?"

A half hour later they were curled on Rachel's couch, The Princess Bride playing on the TV. They hadn't been able to agree on anything more recent, but had discovered a mutual love for the movie when Quinn stumbled upon it while browsing the diva's collection. Quinn had sat on one end of the couch, with Rachel on the other, but around the time that Buttercup found out Westley had been killed by the Dread Pirate Roberts, Quinn had begun inching closer to the brunette.

By the time Inigo and Westley were dueling atop the Cliffs of Insanity, Quinn was pressed up against Rachel's side, her head resting on her shoulder. Rachel was trying desperately not to move, unsure of what was acceptable and what might send Quinn scurrying away from her. Quinn, for her part, was trying not to smile at the sense of cautiousness she could feel radiating from the brunette and the warmth seeping into her body because of it.

When they were watching Buttercup throw herself down the hill after Westley, Quinn decided that her current position was entirely too uncomfortable and slid down so she was laying with her head on Rachel's lap. She felt the brunette tense for a long moment, but gradually the smaller woman's posture eased, and she let out a small sigh. After another few minutes, Quinn felt tentative fingers begin to run through her hair, and she turned her face into Rachel's leg as she tried not to moan at how good it felt.

Softly, Rachel asked, "Quinn? Why did you come to my shows?"

Exhaling into the denim of the brunette's jeans, Quinn turned her face to look up at Rachel and replied quietly, "Your voice. It just...it makes everything bad go away. I saw your name on the billboard and went once, and...well, I never stopped going. When I heard you singing it was like my problems didn't exist any more..."

She trailed off, unsure of how to continue without making things awkward, and Rachel squeezed her shoulder gently. Nimble fingers caressed her arms and continued combing her hair, and she sighed at the feeling.

It had just been so long since someone had touched her like that, and she found herself trying to hold back the tears that were suddenly pushing at the corners of her eyes. A few slipped out, and she cursed herself, knowing that Rachel would be able to feel the dampness on her jeans. The only indication the brunette gave, however, was to gently move an arm over Quinn and lace their fingers together, giving a gentle squeeze.

Quinn felt more tears spring to her eyes at the action, and the quiet understanding, and she wanted nothing more than to curl up with Rachel and never leave the comfort of her arms. She felt tender fingers move from her hair to trace light shapes on her back, and she tried to brace herself for the pain she knew would come if Rachel touched one of her bruises.

After a few long minutes, however, she realized that Rachel had traced her entire back, and there had yet to be even a hint of discomfort. The brunette's touch was feather-light, and Quinn felt the last bit of tension bleed from her body as she realized she didn't have to worry about Rachel hurting her. She glanced at the television in time to see Buttercup falling gracefully from the balcony in a flurry of white and silver before she let her eyes slip closed, letting herself get lost in the feeling of Rachel's tenderness.

Rachel felt more than saw Quinn's breathing ease into the steady, deep rhythm of sleep, and she exhaled slowly. She wasn't really sure what had just happened between them, or where it might be going. She hadn't been able to control her hand when Quinn had been in her lap, but the moment of panic that she had overstepped some boundary was immediately quelled when the blonde subtly leaned into the touch.

For a moment, when she had felt the first tears on her thigh, she had panicked and thought that it was because of something she had done. But Quinn hadn't moved away, and so she was left more confused than ever. She felt certain now that Quinn was hiding something, but she was helpless to do anything to ease the other woman's obvious pain. She wanted more than anything to protect Quinn from whatever it was that was hurting her, but until the blonde trusted her enough to tell her, she was stuck unable to do anything.

Slowly, she moved to unwind the scarf from around Quinn's neck. She wasn't about to wake the blonde from a peaceful sleep, but if she was going to sleep here, Rachel certainly wasn't going to risk her choking herself in her sleep. Neatly draping the scarf over the back of the couch, she leaned down and brushed a gentle kiss against the shell of Quinn's ear as she whispered, "Goodnight."

* * *

The first time she had to go to the hospital, it was the most awful combination of humiliation and terror that she had ever experienced. She knew how she looked, but that didn't mean she appreciated the looks that people were giving her. Of course, she only started noticing the looks after she woke up from the heavy sedative they had given her when she stumbled into the ER with her arm broken in two places, but still.

It had started out like any other confrontation, but in her desperation to get away, Quinn had made the mistake of backpedaling in the direction of the stairs. Jason's hand had connected with her, and the next thing she knew she was falling down, down, down until she felt ground underneath her, the impact resonating with a sickening crack that she felt through her entire body. Everything was completely still for a split second, but in the next instant her body was on fire, pain shooting through every fiber of her being.

She was gasping for air, and trying desperately to keep from screaming, and the result was an awful sort of quiet shriek. She went to try to push herself into a sitting position, but when she moved to lean on her right arm, she felt a sickening sliding sensation, and when she looked down she barely choked back a scream when she saw that her forearm was bent double. The bone was gleaming white, fragmented and splintery in the dim light of the living room, and she felt a wave of nausea sweep her body.

Trying to focus, she glanced back up the stairs but Jason was nowhere in sight. She managed to prop herself against the bottom stair and tried to slow her breathing as much as possible. Looking down at her other arm to make sure it wasn't broken, she reached out and grabbed the banister to try to force herself into a standing position. She almost didn't make it, but after a terrifying few seconds where she thought she might fall over, she was able to begin moving slowly in the direction of the door.

Her one thought was that she needed to get to a doctor. Once on the street, she managed to hail a cab, and nearly fell inside once she had wrestled the door open. The cabbie was trying to talk to her, but when he looked back to see why she wasn't responding, his face went white as a sheet and he immediately started mumbling about hospitals.

Her vision was getting hazy, and she heard the cabbie trying to ask her something, but she couldn't seem to make her mouth form words to respond. She was dimly aware of being lifted by someone and being hit with a blast of cold night air before being enveloped in warmth again, but she couldn't quite grasp what was going on. Everything was blurred together, moving too fast for her to follow.

Her last thought before she slipped into the comfort of darkness was that at least it wouldn't hurt any more.

She woke up hours later in a hospital bed in a standard issue hospital gown, with a nurse standing by the bedside. That was the first time she was on the receiving end of that look, the one that conveyed pity beyond measure and made her feel somehow less. She was hooked up to all sorts of monitors, and when she looked down she wasn't really surprised to see her arm in a massive cast, immobilized from her shoulder down.

She drifted off again, and when she woke up there was a doctor standing at the foot of the bed, writing on a chart. When he glanced up and saw that she was awake, he moved slowly until he was standing on the side of the bed near her head. "Miss, I'm Dr. Johnson, I have a couple questions I need to ask if you're feeling up to it?"

Nodding her head slowly, Quinn answered all of the questions in as few words as possible.

Name? Quinn Fabray.

Age? 23.

Occupation? Homemaker.

Marital Status? Married.

The doctor arched a brow slightly at her answer to the marital status question, before shaking his head slightly and asking, "Ms. Fabray, I just need to clarify- injuries like this are frequently indicators of abuse, you understand I just need to-"

She cut him off, shaking her head vehemently. "NO, I'm not- I mean- what on earth would give you that idea? I just fell down the stairs when I was carrying a load of laundry down. My husband was...he was at work, and I didn't want to take the time to call him. It's just a broken arm, after all!"

Sighing, the doctor shook his head. "Ms. Fabray, I must try to impress upon you the seriousness of what happened. You broke both your ulna and radius in two different places, and you fractured three ribs on top of that. Bear in mind, all of this isn't taking into account all of the bruising and external injury that took place. Are you sure that you...fell down the stairs?"

Regardless of the fact that the doctor's skepticism was well-deserved, Quinn felt a spike of indignation and fixed him with a glare. "Dr. Johnson, if something other than falling down the stairs had occurred, I can assure you that the police would already be carting the individual responsible away. I am insulted that you would insinuate that I am lying right now, or that such a thought could even cross my mind."

Withering under the blonde's righteous fury, the doctor opened his mouth, closed it, opened it long enough to mutter a quick, "Apologies, Ms. Fabray," and then made a hasty exit. The second the door closed behind him, Quinn collapsed back against her pillows, not even trying to stop the tears. The combination of the pain and the stress and the fact that he had believed her so easily was just too much, and she was just too tired to keep trying to maintain a stone-faced exterior. Turning her face away from the door as a nurse came in to check her medications, she tried to pull herself together before turning back to the nurse.

"Excuse me, but how long do I have to stay here?"

The man gave her a sympathetic look and said, "You shouldn't be here much longer. They just wanted to keep you for observation since it was such a nasty fall. I know this has to be miserable...is there anyone I can call for you? Your husband, perhaps?"

The look on her face was probably enough to tip him off that calling her husband was an awful idea, but even if it wasn't the rapid shaking of her head and the hastily murmured, "No, no, don't worry about it," would have been red flags anyways.

Nodding his head slowly, he said, "All right, but if there's anything I can help you with, please don't hesitate to ask. I'm Connor, by the way."

Relieved that he hadn't pushed her or questioned her about why she wouldn't want her husband by her side at a time like this, Quinn forced a small smile and said, "Nice to meet you. Not ideal circumstances, certainly, but I suppose we might as well make the best of a bad situation. I'm Quinn."

He had smiled back at her and said, "Nice to meet you. The drugs should be kicking in any moment now, but if you need me I'm right down the hall."

As she watched him leave the room, closing the door quietly behind him, Quinn felt a brief pang of guilt about lying to him. He seemed like a really nice guy, and while she felt bad about lying to most people, when they were nice, it just seemed to make things...harder. Things got complicated far more quickly, and she had more than enough complications in her life already.

Sighing as she felt her lids begin to droop, Quinn tried not to think about how disappointed everyone would be in her if they knew the truth about how weak she was. It hurt, to know that she could have been so much more, and she welcomed the blank nothingness that unconsciousness brought.


	4. Part Four

Quinn woke gradually, not wanting to leave the safe haven of her dreams. The feeling of someone gently stroking her hair was so comforting, but as she slowly started to wake, she felt a spike of fear. Where was she? Who was stroking her hair? What was going on?

Sitting up with a jolt, she looked around and her gaze quickly found Rachel staring back at her in concern. "Quinn? Are you okay? You fell asleep and I didn't want to wake you up..." The brunette sounded so worried and hesitant that Quinn found herself trying to reassure her, reaching out to cup her cheek gently with one hand. "It's fine, Rach," she murmured, "Just a little disoriented."

Looking down as she felt a tug on her hand, Quinn was surprised to see that her fingers were twined with Rachel's, but she let herself be pulled back to the brunette without complaint. Resting her head on the smaller woman's chest, she exhaled slowly, listening to the calm beating of her heart. She felt bad for worrying Rachel, but it had felt so foreign to wake up like that, to calm and love and warmth.

Letting her eyes slip closed, she nestled her head in the crook of Rachel's neck, inhaling the soft scent of her skin. It was impossible to adequately describe, a hazy mix of fruit and flowers and a slight musk that was uniquely Rachel's. Humming slightly in the back of her throat, she let her lips press to the soft skin for a moment, savoring the feeling. When her brain caught up with her actions, she slowly pulled away, trying to remind herself that Rachel wasn't interested and that it could only end badly.

She had to admit, though, that the way Rachel was holding her felt far more intimate than a simple embrace between friends, and when the brunette tilted her head ever so slightly to expose her neck, Quinn decided to push her luck. Letting her lips rest on the soft patch of skin just below the diva's jawline, Quinn barely suppressed a smile when Rachel tilted her head more, a contented noise escaping from the back of her throat. Moving up slowly, she let her lips linger for a moment longer before pressing a gentle kiss just below the brunette's ear.

Moving carefully, afraid to destroy whatever spell had fallen over them, Quinn slowly brought her fingers up to brush strands of hair away from Rachel's face. She grazed her fingertips across the smooth skin of the brunette's cheek before gently tucking the hair behind her ear. She could see the other woman's pulse beating fast in her neck, but she decided to push just a little bit more. Slowly, hesitantly, she let her lips come to rest on Rachel's cheek, by the corner of her mouth. A soft sigh escaped the brunette, and Quinn could practically taste the diva as their breath mingled.

She was about to move to close the remaining centimeter between her lips and Rachel's when she heard a faint buzzing. Somewhere in the back of her mind, she wondered idly at what the noise might be, but Rachel's lips were far more intriguing, and she didn't waste much though on it. Her lips were just about to brush Rachel's when it hit her. Buzzing. Phone. Stayed the night at Rachel's. Fuck.

She fairly leaped off of the brunette, grabbing frantically for her abandoned purse and searching for her phone. When she pulled it out, her heart sank as she saw the twenty missed calls and the fifteen texts. She didn't need to look to know that they were all from Jason, and she felt vaguely nauseous as she thought about how he was going to react.

"Quinn?"

Turning quickly, Quinn was instantly sorry for her panic when she saw the heartbreaking look on Rachel's face. Moving and kneeling in front of the brunette, Quinn took her hands and kissed the back, whispering, "Rachel, I'm sorry, I have to go." She brought her palm to Rachel's cheek gently, feeling the strong urge to forget Jason and stay with the brunette forever when the other woman leaned into the touch.

Sighing, Quinn was about to stand when Rachel's hand tugged at her own. Stilling for a second, Quinn was unsure what the brunette was doing as she reached out hesitant fingers and gently brushed them along the blonde's neck. Her look must have been questioning, because Rachel squeezed her hand tightly and whispered, "Be safe. I- just be safe, please." There were tears in her voice as she finished, and Quinn found herself confused about where the sudden plea for safety was coming from, but she nodded anyways and said softly, "Of course, Rach. I'll see you soon, okay?"

Rachel forced a nod, and Quinn reluctantly stood. Unwilling to let go of her hand until absolutely necessary, Rachel stood with her and walked her to the door. As the blonde was about to step out the door, Rachel pulled her back, drawing her into a quick hug. Pulling back, she kissed the blonde's cheek and opened her mouth to say something before closing it and shaking her head. Elated at the small gesture and grateful that the brunette hadn't asked questions, Quinn shot her a small smile before walking away. If she didn't hurry up and leave, she wasn't sure she ever would.

Staying with Rachel and avoiding Jason forever seemed like a brilliant idea in theory, but she knew that he would come looking, and when he found them he wouldn't hesitate to kill one or both of them. She couldn't risk Rachel's life on a dream of domestic bliss or true love, and so she knew that she had to deal with Jason in order to keep the brunette safe. She hailed a cab quickly, giving them the building address before settling in for the ride, her thoughts occupied by her interactions with Rachel.

She wasn't entirely sure how she had ended up in the brunette's arms during the night, but she was even more confused about how she had ended up almost kissing the smaller woman. It was all happening too fast, too soon. In some small corner of her mind, Quinn knew that it was probably best in the long run that she and Rachel had been interrupted, but the larger part of her was just disappointed that she couldn't even have had that one moment to hang on to.

Exiting the cab and running for the stairs, Quinn made her way inside as quickly as possible, half expecting Jason to be waiting for her when she opened the door. Instead, she was greeted by a silent apartment, and she sent a silent thanks to whoever might be listening. Going into the bedroom, she sat down on the bed, thoughts still occupied with Rachel.

She was still confused about the brunette's comments when she was leaving, but as she took off her coat and reached for her scarf, she blanched as she realized it wasn't around her neck. She didn't remember taking it off, but there were bruises on her neck that might have been visible without it on, and when Rachel had reached out...

Oh god.

She prayed that she was over reacting. There was no way Rachel had seen bruises. Sure, she had touched her neck right where the marks would be, but...no. There was just no way. Trying to convince herself that she was falling victim to a massively over-active imagination that was entirely too pessimistic, Quinn forced herself to clear her mind and stop thinking about what Rachel might or might not know. Before she knew it, her eyes were slipping closed, and she fell into dreams of soft lips and tan skin.

The slamming of the front door jolted her awake, but before she could process what was happening, Quinn found herself being pinned to the bed. She screwed her eyes closed tightly, trying to brace herself. She didn't need to see Jason above her to know what was going to happen, or to see the look of possessiveness and anger on his face. She had seen it before, and it never got any better.

As his weight pressed down on her, she struggled to keep breathing and try to lose herself in dreams of gentle lips and silky hair again. It was the farthest thing possible from her reality, but she had learned long ago that sometimes dreams were better. Sometimes, dreams were all she had.

* * *

The first time he raped her, she tried to tell herself that it wasn't actually rape. It wasn't rape because they were married. It wasn't rape because it happened in their home, and because he said he loved her after he was done. It wasn't rape because she loved him. It wasn't rape because she never said no, because she didn't scream or report it to the police.

All of her reasons sounded logical and reasonable in her head, but in her heart she felt that maybe, in this case, just because they sounded good didn't mean they were.

She didn't really know why he was so upset that night, honestly. She couldn't remember doing anything that might be particularly provoking, and though she had combed through every detail leading up to that moment a million times she had never been able to come up with a concrete reason why.

All she knew was that she had been doing dishes and the next thing she knew he was right up against her, his front pressing hard into her back. She had been worried, then, but it had never crossed her mind that he was about to cross a new line. It wasn't until she heard the sound of a zipper and felt him pressing against her more firmly that she had felt the first jolt of panic. She didn't want this. It wasn't right. But he was her husband, and she didn't want him to hurt her, and she couldn't seem to make her mouth work to form a scream, or even to say, "No."

She had been standing there pressed between Jason and the kitchen counter, frozen in place, and she had heard him laugh. She was standing there, more terrified then she had been in her entire life, and he was laughing.

"I bet you want this, don't you, bitch?"

The husked words would make her sick to her stomach when she remembered them, because nothing had been farther from the truth, but she hadn't been strong enough to tell him he was wrong. She had stood there, silent tears rolling down her cheeks as he did it, because it hurt. She had braced her hands on the edge of the kitchen counter, trying to keep herself upright, trying not to make a sound. She didn't know why he was doing this to her, or why she was letting it happen.

There was a knife, not more than five feet away on the other side of the kitchen, but she didn't grab it and stab him. She could have screamed and a passerby might have heard her. She could have run away, or kicked him where it hurt and maybe escaped. She could even have just said, "No," and maybe that would have been enough to make him stop.

But she didn't, and when he finally finished she remained frozen in place. Her body didn't seem capable of moving, even though her mind was screaming at her to do something, anything. So she had stood there, and eventually she had heard the front door close, signaling his departure, and only then did her body respond.

She had to sprint for the bathroom, because the first thing her body chose to do was empty the contents of her stomach. She felt dirty and awful and sick to her stomach, and she didn't know how to make it go away. She had gotten into the shower, turned on the water as hot as it could go, and stood there until the water was icy, hoping that somehow it could wash away the filth.

When she was shivering and finally felt like she wasn't going to throw up again, she slowly made her way to the room she shared with him. She had slipped on loose fitting clothes and had crawled into bed. She just wanted to sleep, and maybe when she woke up all of this would have been a nightmare and she would be happy and in love with someone who loved her back.

Wincing when she tried to move and felt an ache between her legs, Quinn felt like kicking herself. She needed to do something to get away from Jason, but she didn't know where to begin. He had to upper hand, and she didn't really want to imagine what he might do if she tried to leave him and didn't succeed.

Burying her head under the covers, she forced herself to try to empty her mind and go to sleep. The second her eyes closed, though, she was back in the kitchen, pinned against the counter. She tried to tell herself again that she had no reason to be upset, because it hadn't been rape, but she couldn't seem to get it out of her head.

In the end, it didn't matter how she tried to justify it because in all reality, it was rape. Plain and simple. And in that moment, when she couldn't fall asleep even though that was all she wanted to do, she decided that she wasn't going to try to justify it any more. She was going to find a way to get away, and she was going to do it soon.

* * *

Rachel gradually woke to the sound of quiet knocking. She had thought that it was part of her dream at first, but it had continue every few seconds, and she had finally woken fully enough to realize that the sound was coming from the other side of her apartment door.

Standing groggily, she made her way to the door and looked through the peephole to try to see who on earth would be knocking in the middle of the night. She saw a flash of blonde hair, and felt a bubble of concern begin to build in her stomach.

Leaving the chain on the door just in case, she opened it a crack and looked out into the hallway. It was Quinn, but the blonde kept her eyes on the ground, refusing to let Rachel see her face.

"Quinn?" Rachel's voice was still raspy from sleep as she asked quietly, "What's going on?"

The brunette thought she saw a tear slide off Quinn's cheek and onto the floor as she whispered, "Can I...can I come in?"

Nodding slowly, Rachel slid the chain off the door and opened it fully. Stepping aside, she watched as Quinn walked slowly inside, her movements careful and measured. Closing the door and locking it behind her, Rachel slowly approached the blonde, whose arms were wrapped tightly around herself.

"Quinn?" Her voice was hesitant now, worried.

"You said to call you, but I didn't have my phone, and I couldn't...I couldn't stay there," she whispered, voice trailing off as Rachel drew closer and slowly let her hand settle on Quinn's arm.

"Quinn, look at me."

The command was soft, but Quinn found herself unable to help slowly lifting her face and letting her eyes meet Rachel's. She saw Rachel's eyes fill with tears and waited for the brunette to say something, letting her eyes drop to the floor. She was expecting a flood of words, and while she was hoping they would be kind, she was trying to prepare for the brunette yelling at her to get out, that she never wanted to see a disappointment like her again.

Instead of words, though, she felt a small, warm hand gently cup her cheek. She knew that the skin was mottled different colors and she felt a spike of shame rise in her, but the feel of Rachel's thumb stroking the damaged skin tenderly quelled the feeling enough for her to resist the urge to bolt.

The brunette's other hand found hers, and Quinn found herself being led to a couch. Letting Rachel tug her down, she finally glanced up and the look on the brunette's face made her want to cry. There was so much love, so much safety and warmth in her eyes as she pulled Quinn closer, and Quinn surprised them both by moving into Rachel's arms on her own.

She felt Rachel hesitate before slowly letting her arms come around her body, and she burrowed her face into the crook of the brunette's neck. Gentle hands began to stroke her hair, and she exhaled quietly, curling into Rachel's body as much as possible. The soothing movements of the smaller woman paired with the exhaustion of the past few hours caught up with her quickly, and before she could even think about it she was asleep.

Watching as Quinn's breathing evened out into sleep, Rachel let her own tears fall. All of her worst fears had been confirmed, and she wanted desperately to kill whoever had hurt her like this. Moving her hands gently down the blonde's back, she felt fresh tears spring to her eyes as she felt the blonde cringe slightly, even in sleep.

Trying to bring the other woman as close to her as possible, she tried to ground herself in the steady feel of the blonde's heartbeat. She was never going to let anyone hurt her again, no matter what it took, and she pressed her lips softly to the top of Quinn's head.

The blonde stirred slightly, and Rachel felt her heart breaking as she looked down and saw the fear painted across her delicate features as she dreamed about something that had already happened. Holding her close, she murmured soothing words in her ear, promises of keeping her safe and protecting her falling easily from her lips.

The blonde's face relaxed, and she snuggled closer to Rachel, nuzzling into her neck and sighing softly. Letting out the breath she had been holding, Rachel tried not to think about what Quinn might have been dreaming of. Try as she might, however, she couldn't help but imagine Quinn being hurt, over and over again, with nobody there to save her. A sudden image of the blonde lying there, helpless and hurt, flashed through Rachel's mind, and she felt like crying at the thought that she might have prevented this if she had confronted the blonde about the bruises on her neck earlier.

She hadn't wanted to scare Quinn off, but if she had been willing to say something...it had just seemed so hard to believe, that anyone could hurt Quinn like that. The blonde was perfect in every way, and Rachel hadn't wanted to lose that. She mentally kicked herself as she realized that she could have lost Quinn forever if whoever was hurting her had gone a step too far. It was just such a huge thing to jump to conclusions about, and she hadn't really had much solid evidence, but still. Zhe could have done something more.

Feeling Quinn stir again, Rachel looked down and was met with worried hazel eyes.

"What's wrong?"

The small voice and the fear that came through in the question made Rachel's heart clench, and she sniffled and leaned down so her forehead was against Quinn's. "I am never, ever going to let anyone hurt you, ever again, Quinn," she said softly, looking straight into Quinn's eyes as she spoke. "I promise."

The words brought an unexpected rush of tears to the blonde's eyes, and before she could stop herself she was crying. "I tried to make him stop, Rach, I tried to get away, I've tried everything, but he was always too strong, and I was so alone, and I couldn't fight him, I couldn't-"

Rachel cut her off with a finger placed softly on her lips, shushing her gently. "You're not alone anymore, Quinn," she whispered, "I'm here, and I swear I'm never letting him lay a hand on you, not as long as I'm around."

Looking up at her, eyes wide and still brimming with tears, Quinn dove forward and buried her face again. Stroking the blonde's back as she cried, Rachel was mindful to keep her touch gentle and light as she soothed the other woman.

When Quinn had finally calmed, Rachel softly began, "You don't have to tell me about it if you don't want to, but I meant what I said. You're safe here, okay?" She felt Quinn nod into her chest and squeeze her just a little bit tighter.

Reaching down and tangling their fingers, Rachel squeezed before asking, "Do you want to get cleaned up?" When she felt Quinn nod again, she gently helped ease her into a sitting position and stood. Reaching out her hands, she tugged Quinn to her feet and led her to the bathroom.

Pausing for a moment, she almost hoped that the blonde would ask her to stay so she could make sure nothing happened, but after a few seconds of silence, she sighed and said softly, "Take your time. I'll be in the kitchen if you need anything."

A half smile touched Quinn's lips as she nodded and squeezed Rachel's hand in thanks before dropping it. As Rachel turned to go, she looked back for a second and said, "And don't even think about locking the door."

Rolling her eyes, Quinn mumbled a response as the door closed behind the brunette. As she waited for the water to heat, she slowly started taking her clothes off. When she was left in her bra and boyshorts, she turned to look at herself in the mirror.

She bit her lip to keep from crying as she let her eyes wander the multi-colored canvas that was her body. Bruises marred the majority of her skin, though there were a few resilient places where pale skin could be seen. Made more visible by the technicolor bruising were the scars that littered her back, and the few that stretched around her ribcage. Memories of belts and knives and broken glass swam through her mind and she cringed at the phantom pain that still remained.

Quinn stepped quickly into the shower, not caring that the water was still a bit chilly and she hadn't taken off the bra and boyshorts yet. She couldn't stand looking at the physical evidence of what he had done to her- and she knew that the visible damage paled in comparison to how screwed up she was emotionally.

Sinking to the floor, she wondered how Rachel could stand to look at her. She couldn't stand to look at herself, and she wished desperately that she could have known Rachel before Jason. Well, she had, back in high school, but she had been awful and naïve back then, and had wasted her chance.

And now...now, she was scarred and damaged and broken, and she didn't know how anyone as beautiful as Rachel could tolerate something like her. She could try to tell herself that the bruises would fade, but she knew that the scars would still be there, permanent reminders of her weakness.

Letting her head fall back against the tile of the shower, she closed her eyes and tried to think of anything but how fucked up this whole situation was. Her thoughts seemed to have a mind of their own, however, and she soon found them looping back to Rachel.

With Rachel holding her, it had been easier to keep her doubts at bay, but alone? She was helpless to stop the thoughts.

She doesn't deserve to have to deal with all of this. She doesn't deserve to have to deal with me. She's gorgeous, and successful, and happy, and everything that I'm not...but everything I wish I could be.

This isn't fair to her, though. Not when I'm like this. I want to be enough for her, more than anything, but I don't know if I'll ever be able to stitch together enough of my pieces to be worthy of her. To be more whole than broken. Because she deserves someone who's whole, someone who doesn't have the type of baggage I come with.

I know she said that she loves me regardless of what secrets I have, but she has no idea the types of secrets I have, and I'm not sure I want her to know. I feel like such a burden, like I shouldn't have involved her in the first place. Like this is too much to ask, like I'm taking advantage of her, and... maybe she'll feel that way too.

Maybe it's best for me to just forget about her all together, find a way to leave and never look back.

Maybe she'd be happier that way.

Rachel was growing concerned waiting for Quinn to come out. She had been in the shower for nearly half an hour, and Rachel knew from personal experience that the hot water didn't last nearly that long. Sighing, she stood and walked over to the bathroom. She knocked on the door, but when she didn't receive a response, she cracked it slightly.

"Quinn?"

When she still didn't get a response, she stepped inside the small room slowly, walking to the shower and peeking inside. Her heart broke all over again when she saw Quinn sitting on the floor of the shower, shivering, with tears running down her face.

"Oh Quinn," she murmured, scooping the blonde up in her arms and carrying her to the bedroom. Quinn didn't say anything, just sat on the bed staring blankly at the wall. Grabbing some clothing, Rachel knelt in front of the blonde, looking up at her. She didn't want to do anything the other woman was uncomfortable with, but she couldn't stand by and watch her shiver without doing something.

Speaking softly, she said, "Quinn, I'm going to get you out of the wet clothes and into some dry ones, okay? If you want me to stop just say something or hit me or do whatever you like to tell me to stop, and I'll stop, I promise."

Moving slowly, she unhooked Quinn's bra and slid it off her shoulders, throwing it off the side of the bed. She quickly slipped a loose sweatshirt over the blonde's head before pulling her damp hair out and making sure it wasn't stuck inside the shirt.

Taking a deep breath, she steeled herself and slipped the boyshorts off, sliding sweats up Quinn's legs in the same motion. It was fast, but not quite fast enough for Rachel to miss the vicious bruises that marred the pale skin of the blonde's upper thighs. Trying not to let herself dwell on it while Quinn was still in shock, Rachel climbed onto the bed and gathered the other woman in her arms.

Rocking gently, she ran her hands up and down the blonde's arms to try to warm her and get the shivering to stop. After a few long minutes, the shivering was gone, but Quinn was just laying in Rachel's arms, and she was getting more and more worried. Trying to think of something she could do, she remembered what the blonde had said about her singing.

Starting softly, she sang a few lines of some random song that popped into her head, and was encouraged when Quinn moved a little to cuddle closer to her. She kept singing, nothing in particular, just songs that were quiet and soft and comforting. Ever so slowly, she felt Quinn relax into her more fully, until the last bit of tension finally bled from her body and she sighed quietly.

Combing through her hair gently, Rachel said, "I love you no matter what, Quinn, and I promise to keep you safe. But you have to promise me something too, okay? You have to promise me you're not going to go back there, all right? I can't handle the thought of you being hurt any more, so...just promise me that? Please?"

Quinn nodded her head slowly. "Okay. I promise. I wouldn't have come to you if I wasn't sure about leaving him permanently. I just... I really don't know how to thank you for this, Rachel. You've done so much more for me than I could ever have hoped to ask for, and it means more than you could ever know to me."

Lacing their fingers tightly and squeezing, Rachel kissed the side of Quinn's head and murmured, "I'm glad I was able to help, even if I wish now that I could have done more. But sleep now, okay? We can talk more later, and we're going to figure this out. That bastard is never going to hurt you or anyone else, ever again."

* * *

The first time she tried to leave, he very nearly killed her. She had thought through when he would be at work, how long she had to get as far away as possible before, and how long before he started looking for her. She knew it was dangerous, but she had been so sure that if she was careful, she could get away with no problems.

The one thing she hadn't counted on, as she was closing the door behind her, was one of Jason's buddies from work driving by to take a look at their tv to see if he wanted to buy it. She was entirely unaware of the car that stopped as he watched her walking away, and she didn't notice it speeding off as she got into a cab. In fact, she only became aware of the fact that someone had seen her when Jason was screaming at her about how she had embarrassed him in front of his buddy, and how he was never going to live this one down.

He had been particularly vicious, and when he was finally done, he had dragged her over to a mirror where she lay on her side, unable to move. Pointing at her reflection, he had whispered, "Look at yourself. Do you honestly think that anyone would take you in with your face looking like that? Nobody wants to help the ugly girl, and that's exactly what you are."

When she had tried to turn her face away in shame, he had grabbed her roughly by the hair and had forced her to keep looking. "Don't even think about the cops either, babe. It's gonna be your word against mine, and you have no proof that I ever did anything. You got nothing on me, and the cops? Well, they'd probably laugh you right out the door. Right back to me."

Quinn watched as tears slid slowly down her cheeks, unable to stop them as he deconstructed her hopes for escape. Suddenly, he was gone from the reflection, and she heard him rummaging around in the kitchen. Before she could even think about moving, he was back, kitchen knife in hand. Grinning at her in the mirror, he crooned softly, "I'm going to give you something to remind you that you're mine, no matter where you are or how far you run."

She had tried to squirm away as he settled on top of her and gently ran the knife across her ribs, but he was too heavy, and he pressed the tip of the knife into her skin. "Better not move too much, or I might slip and stab you," he said with a quiet laugh. Quinn bit her lip until she tasted blood as she felt the blade slicing her skin. She thought, in the back of her mind, that if he was carving his name on her then she would have a way to prove he had been the one to hurt her.

When he finally stopped and dragged her into a sitting position, however, she felt that last bit of hope fade away into nothingness as she saw that he hadn't carved his name, or even a "J" or an "S" for his initials. Instead, there was a large "M" carved into her ribcage, just below her right breast. He grinned at her in the mirror and said, "It stands for 'mine', get it?" Quinn gave a tiny nod, just wanting him to go away, and he finally stood and left her alone.

She hadn't been able to move, but she had laid there and tried to find a way to not let him win. He made it seem like he had it all figured out, that there was no hope of her ever escaping, but she knew that he wasn't infallible, and that there was a way to beat him. There was a way, but she had yet to find it.

What she needed was a way to prove that he was the one hurting her, and that it had been ongoing. She had looked at her reflection in the mirror and thought, not for the first time, that if she could just take a snapshot of that moment, then it wouldn't be hard to convince anyone that she was being abused by Jason. It hit her as she let her eyes trace the various bruises across her body.

She could do that.

She had a camera, and if she took pictures every time that he hurt her, eventually she might be able to get enough evidence to put him in jail. There were other details to work out, of course, to prove that it was him and not anyone else, but she felt her lips curve up into a hint of a smile as she realized she could do this. He might not think she was capable of escaping, but she was, and now every time he hurt her, it would be giving her additional fuel.

She was more than he thought. She was better than he thought. She was going to do this, and when she was done, he was going to be in jail for a long, long time.

* * *

Quinn sat across the kitchen table from Rachel, watching as the brunette sipped at her coffee. The diva glanced up at her, offering a small smile and coking her head to the side in question. "What's up?"

Thinking for a second longer about what she was about to say, Quinn slowly said, "I think…I need to go back." She saw the fear and worry in Rachel's eyes and hurried to elaborate. "I'm not going back to him, I promise, but there's…well, there's something that I need to get." Leaning back slightly in her chair, Rachel waited for the blonde to explain.

"Before we started talking, when I was still sort of stuck in limbo, I had this idea. See, he had always said that there was no way I could prove it was him that was hurting me, and so I thought…if I could find a way to record what was going on over a period of time and show that it wasn't just a one-time thing, then maybe I would have a better chance of actually seeing something happen."

Trying to decide if there was a way to gloss over some of the details of the evidence collection and some of the things that had happened, Quinn finally settled for saying, "I took pictures, basically. Every time that he hurt me, I would take pictures with dates and I put them in this box, so that when I had enough I could take it to the police. I know it was stupid of me not to grab it when I came here, but now…I want to make sure he doesn't get away, Rachel, and those pictures can help."

Taking a deep breath, Rachel nodded slowly before speaking. "Okay. I get it. But I'm not letting you go back there alone." She reached across the table, taking Quinn's hand in her own and gently smoothing her thumb across the back of it. The blonde squeezed back tightly, unsure whether to be thankful that Rachel was going to be there with her or scared that the brunette might get hurt.

A few hours later, they were standing outside Quinn's door while the blonde tried not to hyperventilate. She had waited until Jason should have already left for work, but having Rachel with her was making her second guess every move she made. She couldn't afford to be the reason why the other woman got hurt, and while she had tried to think through every detail of what they were going to do, she was worried that she had missed something.

She was shaken from her thoughts by a gentle tug on her hand, and she looked over to see Rachel watching her with concern. "We don't have to do this now if you don't want to," she said softly. "We can wait until you're ready."

Shaking her head, Quinn sighed and leaned into Rachel's side for a moment before pushing her key into the lock and opening the door. She half expected Jason to be waiting for her, sitting at the table, but the apartment looked empty. Walking in, she didn't let go of Rachel's hand all the way to the bedroom, when she had to let go in order to get into the closet to retrieve the box.

She carefully slid it off of the top shelf where it had been shoved behind clothes and old books. She shot Rachel a tiny half-smile when it was in her hands, and they turned to leave. They were just about to step out of the bedroom when they heard the lock on the front door turn, and Quinn froze. She felt Rachel tense beside her as the door opened and then closed, and they heard someone moving around in the kitchen.

Quinn turned terrified eyes to Rachel, not knowing what to do. Speaking as quietly as possible, Rachel asked, "Is there any chance of us making it out the door before he can do anything?" When the blonde shook her head immediately, Rachel grimaced and sighed. "Okay. We're going to have to just walk out there and try to bluff him into letting us leave."

Before Quinn could protest and tell Rachel that bluffing didn't work with Jason, the brunette was striding determinedly out into the living room. Quinn saw the look on Jason's face go from shocked to angry to predatory as he looked at them. She shivered, trying to head for the door, but he stood, and suddenly he was blocking their way out.

She whimpered a little as she was bombarded with images of Rachel being hurt, and she instinctively pulled the brunette closer to her in an effort to shield her at least partially from Jason. Unfortunately, that was enough to set him off as he took in their somewhat intimate position, with their fingers laced and their bodies pressed against each other.

"What," he sneered, "Don't tell me you thought you'd leave me for her? You'd leave me to go be just another dyke, huh? Well, I don't think so." Before she was even aware of movement, he had lunged at her, but Rachel had stepped in between them just as quickly, and he ended up grabbing her and pinning her to the floor instead. Quinn heard the crack as Jason's fist connected with Rachel's face and her head snapped back into the floor.

Without even stopping to think about what she was doing, she grabbed the lamp off the nearest table and swung it as hard as she could into the back of Jason's head. He went flying and the lamp shattered, but Quinn wasn't even aware that she was gripping the shards left in her hand tight enough to draw blood. Her only thought was of Rachel, and whether Rachel was okay.

She dropped to her knees beside the brunette, gently lifting her into her arms. The smaller woman's eyelids fluttered, and Quinn murmured, "Come on, Rach, don't do this. Open your eyes for me, we have to get out of here." Slowly the brunette blinked until her brown eyes were gazing back at Quinn. "Can you walk?" Quinn asked, looking over her shoulder to try to make sure that Jason hadn't gotten up.

Rachel tried to move, but immediately winced and her eyes closed. Her voice was shaky as she whispered, "I don't think so. Quinn, my phone's in my pocket- get it and call 911, they can meet us here."

The blonde moved quickly, but by the time she had dialed and told the operator the address and that they needed help now, Rachel's eyes were firmly shut again. Cradling her body, Quinn kept talking to her, hoping to cajole her into waking up, but there was no movement from the smaller woman.

Eventually, as she heard sirens coming to a stop outside, Quinn resorted to watching the faint pulse in Rachel's neck, praying that it would continue long enough for help to arrive. When the EMTs came in and started to transport her to the ambulance, she knew she must have looked crazy as she demanded to be allowed to go with her, but they let her in the ambulance and so she decided it didn't really matter what they thought.

She was forced to leave Rachel's side when they reached the hospital, with the brunette wheeled through a set of doors and a nurse pulling her to the side so they could examine her. "Is she going to be all right?" Her voice was begging the nurse to say yes, to reassure her, and she hesitated before saying, "I don't know."

They stitched her hands and cleaned the remaining shards of lamp from the wounds, and they examined her other injuries as well. Quinn knew that there was no turning back, and when they asked if she had been assaulted, she nodded yes and asked for the rape kit.

It was long, and she had to painfully tell her entire story to the nurse examiner, but the woman was as gentle as possible and didn't question why Quinn hadn't come forward sooner. It took five hours for the examiner to get everything she needed, but at the end she gave the blonde some new clothing, baggy sweats and a t-shirt, and asked her to wait one moment in the room.

When the woman came back, she gave Quinn a small smile and said, "Your friend is awake and asking for you. They said you can see her if you want."

Before she knew it, Quinn was standing outside of Rachel's room, trying to work up the courage to go in. The nurse who had walked her up gave her an encouraging smile, and before she could lose her nerve Quinn opened the door and stepped into the room. Rachel was lying in the bed, hooked up to several monitors, with a dark bruise blooming across her face.

She looked small and pale and helpless lying there, and Quinn walked slowly over, hesitant to do anything that might startle the smaller woman. She settled herself into one of the chairs by the side of the bed, and was debating what to do when Rachel opened her eyes.

The brunette blinked blearily at her a couple of times, and then simply patted the space next to her on the bed. Quinn was hesitant to move, but Rachel just rolled her eyes and reached over to pull the blonde closer. "Hey, you," she whispered, snuggling close to Quinn. The blonde carefully wrapped an arm around the brunette and whispered, "Hey. How are you?"

Rachel smiled a little and murmured, "Good. They said I just got knocked around a bit, but the bruise will fade and they said no lasting damage." A feeling of relief swept Quinn, and she sent up a silent thanks to whoever was watching out for Rachel. She just watched as the brunette's breathing evened out into sleep again, and kissed the top of her head.

There would be time later to worry about the police and what was going to happen to Jason. For now, she just wanted to relish in the feeling of having Rachel safely beside her.


	5. Epilogue

Here's the end! Sorry again for the ridiculous gap in posting...

* * *

The first time that Quinn knew what love really was, she was laying on the couch with her head pillowed on Rachel's lap. The brunette was combing through her hair as they watched some ridiculous artsy movie, and she had leaned down and whispered, "I love you," to Quinn, like it was the most natural thing in the world.

It wasn't the first time she had said it to Quinn, even in the "more than friends" capacity. Their relationship had developed slowly after Rachel was released from the hospital, with both of them hesitant about pushing for things to happen too fast. Then there had been the ordeal of the trial, and the celebration when a guilty verdict was returned and Jason was sentenced to life in prison.

During that moment of elation, Quinn had been hugging Rachel, and without even stopping to think about it she kissed her. The brunette was still for only a moment before she started kissing Quinn back, and they hadn't looked back since.

That wasn't to say things had been easy all the way- there had been a number of issues, particularly around sex, that had been painful for Quinn to unpack. But Rachel hadn't pushed, and had always been more than willing to take a step back when Quinn needed to, and eventually Quinn had realized that she wasn't afraid any more. Rachel made her feel safe, and while there had been tears the first time they slept together, Quinn wouldn't trade it for anything in the world.

Now, she didn't have to come up with ways to hear Rachel sing, and it was no longer imaginary when she imagined that voice was directed at her. Rachel sang to her all the time, and not just the big show tunes that made it on Broadway. She sang the small songs that only the two of them knew, the ones that were by artists who were still trying to make it.

There were parts of life that still hurt sometimes, like when she looked in the mirror and saw the scars that were still faintly visible, but Rachel was always there to make it better again.

Rachel, who had encouraged her to find something to be passionate about and to get a job. Rachel, who told her constantly that she was strong and beautiful and too good to be true. Rachel, who could make her melt with a single look or touch.

That night when she realized what love really was, it wasn't because of some grandiose gesture, though Rachel had made some of those too. It was because they could be doing absolutely anything, even if it was just laying on the couch, and Rachel still made her feel special.

She hoped that she made Rachel feel the same way, and when she tilted her head and leaned up to press a tender kiss on the brunette's lips, she thought maybe she did. Rachel made her stronger- being with her gave Quinn the feeling that, even if she fell, the brunette would be there to catch her.

Before, she had felt like she might shatter at any moment, that the slightest breeze could whisk her away forever. Now, though, she was grounded. Gone were the days of porcelain delicacy- she had found herself through Rachel and her love, and now? She was made of stronger stuff.


End file.
